


When the Mood Strikes

by loonsong



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonsong/pseuds/loonsong
Summary: Mac gets more than she bargained for when she accepts a dinner invitation at Phryne's.This takes place probably middle of series two or so, but does not contain any plot spoilers for the show.Note -- this is my previous story, "A New Adventure," but this time, told from Mac's point of view.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Elizabeth MacMillan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 50





	1. The Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A New Adventure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800372) by [loonsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonsong/pseuds/loonsong). 



Something had changed the night of the storm, but Mac didn’t know it yet. She was on her way to the Esplanade to see Phryne when the weather turned foul. It was like something out of a book about the plight of a small fishing town. Mac had never seen anything like it. She had taken a cab, but the first cab’s tire blew out, and she spent fifteen minutes that felt like thirty walking towards Phryne’s place before another cab came by.

Mac loved that Phryne had strange ideas sometimes, but that night’s guest list was certainly one of them -- Lin and Camellia Chung, herself, Jack Robinson, Prudence Stanley, Dot, and Jane. Walking in the rain, Mac started fantasizing about eating soup under a blanket next to a roaring fire. She was sure she looked ridiculous, holder her jacket about her for shelter with rain bouncing off of the taut wool and falling in sheets around her. Dot answered the door. 

“Come in, doctor! It’s just awful out there, isn’t it?”

“Oh, you’re not old enough to remember 1891,” Mac said easily, but she barely remembered the flood herself.

“Come upstairs, I’ve drawn you a hot bath.”

“Oh! How lovely.”

Once Dot left, Mac undressed. Save for the jacket and her socks, her clothes would be dry enough to wear to supper in half an hour. She peeled the wet, muddy socks off and eased into the deliciously warm bath. Her thoughts started to drift in that way they did as she relaxed towards sleep, although she wasn’t tired. The book she was reading at home, a patient was was superstitiously refusing a new medication, the flood of 1891, Phryne standing in the doorway, mouth slightly agape… wait.

Mac sat up a bit to greet her friend, setting her arms on the side of the tub. 

"Well hello there!"

"Sorry, I didn't know you had arrived! When did you get in?" asked Phryne. 

"Only a minute ago. Dot was gracious enough to start drawing the bath for me as soon as she heard the cab struggling up the road. I am very glad, because I was soaking wet and chilled to the bone." 

"Ah, that's good. Dot is thoughtful that way." Mac briefly wished that the bath had been bubbly -- she didn’t ordinarily care if she was unattractive next to her glamorous friend, but this was considerably more exposure than usual. Phryne was still in the doorway, but she hadn’t said anything in a while.

"Was there something else, Phryne?" 

"No, I just..." Phryne said absently, without finishing.

"What's troubling you?" Mac asked. Something seemed off, and Mac wondered if she would be called in for an autopsy soon.

"It's nothing. Nothing at all," Phryne said. "I'll see you at supper?" Mac nodded, and Phryne left her to her bath.

Supper that night was delicious, and the company was lovely if an odd mix. Mac didn’t exactly have a soft spot for Prudence Stanley, but she found her more palatable than most old-fashioned, rigid society ladies. Mac was dying to know more about Camellia’s past as a communist revolutionary fighter, but it didn’t exactly come up in conversation. Still, the evening’s talk was about art and music, and not just the most respectable artists, either, but some of the more interesting post-war material. It seemed that Jack and Phryne might be conspiring on a case; he had to remind her to come to the parlor after supper. 

Mac could feel her cheeks growing pink in the glow of the roaring fire. In turn, Bert, Cec, Dot, Mr. Butler, and Phryne all poked their heads outside and declared the weather unfit for travelling in. Phryne insisted they all stay the night.

On the way to the guest room Mac would be staying in, she was interrupted by a polite clearing of the throat.

“Doctor, if you’ll pardon the liberty, I thought you might like to borrow some pyjamas,” said Mr. Butler, holding out a folded pair.

“Oh, that’s quite kind of you!” Mac said. Entering the room, there was a nightgown laid out on the bed. The rain had died down, and Mac opened the window to clear out the dust. A fierce wind came in, but it wasn’t too cold. She went about her toilet and was already in bed, without clothes as was her wont, when the rain picked up again, and hard. She darted to the window, hoping that she’d catch it before a puddle formed on Phryne’s lovely floor. The window frame seemed to have swollen from the water -- damn, that was fast. Mac must have struggled with it for fifteen minutes (although it felt more like thirty) before giving up. She put on Mr. Butler’s pyjamas and went down the hall to Phryne’s room.

"Phryne, dear? It's Mac."


	2. On Holiday

Phryne opened the door. She was in a nightgown and dressing robe, but looked flush and awake.

"Sorry to knock so late,” said Mac, “I'm afraid I got the window stuck open, could you come take a look?"

"Of course," said Phryne. She asked about the pyjamas, and Mac explained.

“Well, they look good on you. Very striped," Phryne teased.

The rain had tapered off again, but a warm, wet breeze was flowing in. The two of them got to work, pushing and leaning on the swollen window frame. The window gave way for a split second and moved half an inch, but then it stuck again. They pushed a bit longer, and were to the point of giving up when a big, cold gust of wind announced that the rain was starting up once more. Phryne graciously offered to take the guest room, saying she didn’t mind the breeze. 

"I couldn't put you out of your own bed. Why don't I just join you in it? No impropriety implied," Mac said with a wink, raising two fingers, "Scout's honor."

She had been in her friend’s bedroom a few times before, for a quiet conversation during a party, for instance, but in this moment, it felt more intimate. Mac slipped into the sumptuous bed, tired from her day and glad for the easiness of old friendship. 

"We've never done this before, have we?" Mac mused aloud.

"Done what?"

"Slept in the same bed. I feel like a little girl visiting a friend on holiday." Phryne still seemed distracted, and she had a hair sticking out to the side, looking a bit ridiculous. Mac reached over and tucked it behind her ear for her. 

"Mac, do you have a philosophy of friendship?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"A belief system, you know, about what works and what doesn't. What are your thoughts on recreation between friends, who are not romantically entangled?" said Phryne. Oh, dear. This wasn’t about detective work after all.

"Recreation? You're not generally one for euphemisms," said Mac. 

"Sex." 

Mac was beginning to feel like she could nod off at any second, but she wanted to be present for her friend. She studied Phryne’s face.

"But Phryne, dear, I thought that you did want to be romantically involved with Jack."

Phryne said that it was someone else, but she was being oddly coy. Someone else they knew, surely.

"Well, I suppose my philosophy is that it depends on the friendship. For some, it would come naturally, and for others it would become some big elephant in the room and get in the way of normal conversation," Mac said, stifling a yawn in the middle.

"Am I keeping you up, Mac?" 

"I'm sorry. It's just been a long day -- a good one -- and I guess the adventure with the window tired me right out."

"Of course."

Phryne was a bit of a restless sleeper, but despite her bedmate, Mac nodded off.

…

Mac woke to that disoriented feeling of not being in her own bed. Phryne was facing her. Right. 

“G’morning,” she mumbled.

"Sleep well?" Phryne asked.

"Yes, you've quite a comfortable bed, here. And these sheets are amazing."

"I do like to be comfortable."

Mac stretched. The sun was still rosy through the windows. Breakfast must be a long way off. 

“Mac?”

“Mm?”

“You prefer conversation to be straightforward, don’t you?” Phyrne had that same intent yet distracted tone from the night before.

“I suppose it depends on the company. if you mean like when you’re on a case, I know you well enough to understand when you’re talking around a subject.” Mac ventured. Ironically, she wasn’t at all sure where this was going.

“And when it’s just the two of us?” 

What trouble was Phryne into? She was usually direct about things, or if she was coy, it was part of her plan. She actually seemed nervous. Her breathing was shallow. What was this about? Was something wrong?

“When it’s just the two of us, sure, I like to be straight,” said Mac, smoothing a bit of Phryne’s hair. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“Mac, when I asked about sex between friends… I meant the two of us.” 

Mac was stunned. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She almost wanted to pull a big smile and gloat, say “well, well, well, Phryne Fisher, crossing the party lines because of me,” nudge Phryne between her ribs and make her squirm, fish for compliments from her a little. But the look on Phryne’s face told Mac she wanted an answer, a real one.

“You… does that interest you? I didn’t realize you even -- I mean, I didn’t think you were the type,” said Mac, “No offense intended.”

“None taken,” said Phryne lightly, and then after a pause, “It does interest me, it interests me quite a lot, although I confess I only realized it recently.”

“I see. And am I the first woman you have realized this about?” 

Phryne blushed in response. Mac wanted to know, but she was also stalling for time. She couldn’t get her head around this.

“So… what do you think?,” asked Phryne, a bit of a waver in her voice. “Would it be the elephant in the room?” 

“Well, I owe you as much directness as you gave me. I wrote the possibility off years ago.” 

“Is it alright if I put it back on the table?” Phryne asked.

“Yes, but I don’t know what my answer will be. You’re a dear friend, and well, you know that you’re beautiful, but I’ve spent so long not thinking of you that way.”

“Well, take your time. The offer stands,” said Phryne. The nervous quality in her voice was gone, replaced with a subtle richness. 

What had been a supper party was turning into much more than Mac had bargained for.


	3. Steeping

Mac sat with her hot cup of tea in her hands, assiduously not making eye contact with Phryne -- as remarkable as it was, her friend looked like she might actually blush. Phryne? Really? Mac started to reflect back on conversations they had had, wondering if there was anything obvious in their bantering conversation she had somehow been oblivious to. But no, Phryne did say she was surprised about this herself. It was all new.

The others were happily chatting -- mostly Jane, Dot, and Phryne. Jack was chiming in with an observation now and again, and Mrs. Stanley and the Chungs were still asleep. Mac realized it had been a long time since she had spoken, so she broke herself out of her thoughts.

Of course, later that day, the questions returned. First and foremost, Mac searched herself for any signs of latent romantic feelings for Phryne. She didn’t want to set herself up for disappointment. She let the idea float in the back of her mind over the course of the morning, but Mac really didn’t feel like she was at risk. She loved Phryne, fiercely and loyally, but not like that. She watched her friend through a cup of tea after sandwiches. The Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher. 

Over another cup of tea, later in the day, Mac’s mind wandered. Phryne was objectively incredibly sexually desirable. 

Now, be rational, Mac admonished herself. There’s no such thing as objective beauty or sex appeal. But, there was such a thing as culturally agreed-upon standards of attractiveness. Phryne certainly fit -- exceeded -- those standards, Mac reasoned. But that was the thing. Mac looked at Phryne and saw an impressively attractive woman, but it had been years since she had seen Phryne as someone she was attracted to, someone she wanted to hold and touch, with skin she wanted to kiss and clothes she wanted to unfasten.

“I’m afraid it’s not going to be possible,” said Phryne suddenly.

“What?” Mac was jostled from her thoughts.

“The road is completely washed out on one end of the block, and there’s a tree downed on the other side. Those phone lines and power lines that came with it look like they could give you a nasty surprise, all jumbled together. Dot, maybe your initial instincts to be afraid of the phone were right.” Phryne continued on. Oh. She hadn’t said that suddenly, she had been talking about getting her guests on their way. 

That meant Mac would be staying another night.

She kept coming back to the question of what she’d tell Phryne. She thought that she had worked out that she wasn’t interested in Phryne that way, that the ship had long since sailed. But, it kept nagging at her -- she wanted to be interested, now that she unexpectedly had the chance to do something with that interest. She pictured the two of them back in that big, soft bed, tried to remember what Phryne smelled like, thought about making her sweat, about being enveloped in her scent, the expression on Phryne’s face right after cresting a big, long orgasm. Sex with Phryne would be fun.

Mac just needed to get over this mental wall she had built, putting Phryne squarely in the platonic friend category. And… there was another mental block. Mac hadn’t had much experience with relationships (or dalliances) that were purely physical. The few times she had, it was with someone who was afraid to get romantically attached, someone wrestling with loving women. She didn’t quite understand it herself -- if you knew you wanted to be with a woman, forming a close loving bond was the kind of thing you could get away with in polite society, more or less, as long as you had the means not to marry and you you called it “romantic friendship” or something equally twee. Sex should have been the more difficult thing, and yet some women wanted furtive, physical encounters with no bond. Mac was fine with this as long as she wasn’t in love with the woman or anything, but she realized she had come to associate casual sex with partners who were hiding or denying themselves something.

And Phryne wasn’t like that. She was a woman who knew her own mind, and wasn’t afraid to cause some raised eyebrows. Hell, she seemed to have told Mac about her newfound interest within maybe a day of figuring it out herself -- propositioned her, even! The two of them could truly have sex between friends, if Mac decided that what she wanted. And if she didn’t want to, well, turning Phryne down might be the closest Mac would ever come to winning an argument against her.


	4. Her Own Mind

Mac took a deep breath in. God, she hoped Phryne hadn’t somehow changed her mind since that morning. She tried to knock but the door opened before her knuckles, with Phryne on the other side.

“Well, hello there!” Mac hoped she sounded suave, or at the very least droll.

"Fancy meeting you here," Phryne said with a smile.

"I can come back later, if you're busy."

"Actually, I was coming to see you," she said, gesturing for Mac to come in. She did, but there was an awkward silence. Phryne was in just a nightgown, no dressing gown, and the fabric was gauze-thin. 

"Please, sit down," Phryne said, motioning to the bed. They both sat. God, it was soft. 

"I've been thinking..." Mac said, looking Phryne in the eye.

"Yes?"

"Yes," said Mac, unable to conceal a hopeful smile. Phryne leaned towards her. This was her moment. She kissed her friend lightly, as if trying not to scare her off. Just a couple of gentle pecks, but she stayed close to her face afterwards. Oh, this was weird. Good, but weird.

Then the old Phryne was back, except directing her … Phryne-ness at Mac. Phryne’s arm was around her pulling her in. Then Mac felt her tongue on her lips, lightly, gently, teasing her until she answered with a deeper, hungry kiss. 

Mac put her arm around Phryne’s torso, which felt just like it had always looked -- wiry strong, yet elegant, graceful. Somewhere in the back of her own mind, she remembered having had doubts earlier that day, worry that this wouldn’t work out or that Mac wouldn’t be able to get into the mood. Phryne was just a friend. Sure, a friend whose breath was quickening the more they kissed. Mac could feel Phryne’s heartbeat accelerate. It was all she could do not to tear the flimsy nightgown right off of her, but no. She had to remember that Phryne was new at this. 

She kissed Phryne’s neck, building up from small kisses to kisses that showed the depth of her desire. Phryne let out a very satisfying gasp. After returning to her lips, Mac maneuvered both of their bodies so Phryne was on top of her, with one of her legs in between Mac’s. Mac could feel her own pulse racing, and her face growing warm. Going slowly was torture. She hoped it would never end.

“Mac?” Phryne pulled back slightly, looking thoughtful.

“Mmm?” Mac managed.

“What … changed? I mean, this morning you weren't sure you wanted to do this at all. I wasn't sure you were interested.” Phryne sat up a little, straddling Mac. She had to think about that.

“Phryne, no one in their right mind would be uninterested in you. When I met you, you practically knocked the wind out of me.” Mac said, and to her delight, Phryne actually blushed. 

“But I got to know you,” Mac continued, “And it became clear you were inclined towards the sterner sex. My attraction to you never went away, I just never thought it was relevant.”  
“I never thought you the type to let a desire smolder,” Phryne said, her voice still a bit breathy.

“No, it wasn't like that,” said Mac. She stroked her friend’s cheek. This was a good conversation to be having, but she did hope they’d get back to the good stuff soon. Still, she wanted to answer frankly, and fully. 

“I guess it did go away, but it went into the recesses of my mind, rather than leaving me entirely. I wasn't... pining. But I sure as hell notice when you are wearing a sleek new dress.”  
Phryne responded by covering Mac’s neck with kisses. Oh, god, she was good at it. Mac’s vulva ached to be touched, especially now that Phryne was sitting up.

“Move your leg back between mine, please,” said Mac.

“May I ask why?” Phryne said. Mac couldn’t help but burst out laughing, even though Phryne did as she was told. She really hadn’t been with a woman before, had she? 

“Less talking, more kissing,” Mac said after catching her breath. She slowly thrust her hips into Phryne, relieving a little of the aching.


	5. May I?

Phryne smelled very slightly like perfume, but not a particular perfume. She smelled like she had taken in a little bit of every perfume she had ever worn, absorbed it into her pores, and now just owned their scents. Not a scientifically sound thought, but Mac didn’t care. She inhaled deeply.

Phryne pulled away from their kiss gently. Her fingers were at Mac’s collar -- finally! Mac nodded as nonchalantly as she could, reminding herself that she wanted to take things at Phryne’s pace. Thankfully, that pace was currently as fast as Phryne’s fingers could work her pyjama shirt buttons. And now Phryne was kissing her collarbones, her sternum, oh god her nipples were so erect she could feel Phryne’s every breath. After a moment, Phryne began circling Mac’s nipples with her tongue.

“You’re a natural,” Mac breathed.

Mac liked slow sex, to be sure. Often, she preferred a gradual, teasing buildup. But she was excited to be with Phryne, she was surprised at herself. It was like not realizing she had wanted to eat until she smelled the first course, and feeling hunger roaring through her.

She briefly made eye contact to check in before starting to stroke Phryne’s thigh with the same gentle, infuriatingly slow circles Phryne had been using on her breasts. She could feel her friend’s pulse quicken. As she gradually slid her hand higher, raising Phryne’s nightgown a bit, Mac could tell with every sense that Phryne was aroused. Sight, touch, scent…

Phryne gracefully maneuvered her hips in an invitation for Mac to come closer. Very slowly, she began to pet Phryne’s labia with one finger. Phryne tensed up and Mac looked at her face -- eyes closed, a smile, biting her lower lip. Good. Mac was just beginning to focus on her clitoris when Phryne stopped her.

“I... erm... I have a bit of a habit of dozing off for a few minutes... sometimes longer... shortly after I come. It's never proved to be a problem with the gentlemen, because they finish up as soon as I let them, but...”

The only thing Mac wanted more than taking Phryne’s hard little clit in her mouth was for Phryne to touch her.

“Are you saying you'd like to pleasure me first?”

“If you don’t mind,” Phryne said, a bit of her usual coyness breaking past her breathy tone.  
“Not a bit.”  
Phryne’s hand was between Mac’s legs instantly, but she was slow to work her way up from the middle of her thighs. Mac could feel her own pulse quicken each time Phryne edged nearer. She wondered whether Phryne had ever fantasized about being with a woman, ever wondered what it would be like. She hoped she measured up. Phryne was an experienced woman, Mac was surprised she’d never even been with a woman in a threesome or something. The kind of thing Mac imagined Phryne doing for fun. But here she was, taking Phryne’s… second virginity, of sorts.

Mac ran her tounge very lightly across Phryne’s collarbone. She would never look at Phryne in a low-cut dress the same way again. Never mind her breasts, just those collarbones were exquisite. Well, okay, her breasts were worth mention, as well. Mac was making her way towards Phryne’s nipple with gentle little kisses when her reverie was broken by Phryne finally sliding a finger over Mac’s slick vulva. Mac lost focus on kissing, which was just as well, because Phryne sat up to get a better angle.  
Mac had a moment of shyness. Since Phryne preferred men, would she be aroused by the sight of what was between her legs? Well, okay, she certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Mac wanted to ask Phryne to go faster, but there was a method in her slow strokes. After a few minutes Phryne entered her. Oh god, this had better not be a one-time thing, the two of them. She’d like to be able to have sex again when they had the house to themselves, and they could be as loud as they needed to.   
Phryne was working her clit again, faster this time, and Mac forgot there were other people in the house. Mmmmmmmm.

“You like that?” Phryne said, grinning.

Mac managed a noise that wasn’t a moan.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Mac’s pulse was racing, and maybe two hundred heartbeats later, Phryne started kissing her abdomen and working her way downwards. She paused.

“May I?” Phryne asked with that delicious, devilish smile.

“I thought you’d never ask!”


	6. Sweat

It took Phryne a little while to find her rhythm. Not that Mac was going to complain about Phryne’s mouth on her vulva. Once she settled in, though, and Mac got her going at the right speed and pressure with a little coaxing, Phryne was good at this. She was damn good.

Almost too good -- damn it, Mac could tell that she was absolutely dripping wet, so Phryne had no friction to work with, and she kept losing her place. Mac realized she was thrusting involuntarily towards her. She tried to steady herself, and Phryne got better at keeping her rhythm up with more practice. Mac gripped the bedsheets. She was so close to coming, she bit her lip to try to keep from screaming. Her cheeks were burning up. She tried to keep her breathing even to make it last longer but -- Oh god it was too late, she was coming and coming hard.

“Thank you,” Mac said, placing a hand in Phryne’s hair affectionately.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Phryne locked eyes with her, and something in Mac’s abdomen clenched pleasurably, an aftershock of her orgasm.

Once she recovered a little, Mac looked Phryne up and down. The first order of business would be to get her all the way out of that nightgown, which was unbuttoned halfway down and hiked up to her waist. Mac eased to soft silk off of Phryne’s body and took the opportunity to get her on her back. Now, where was she?

She slowly petted Phryne’s thighs -- her skin was deliciously warm to the touch -- and kissed her deeply and long. There was nothing like kissing a woman just after she had given oral pleasure. Mac pressed her tongue more firmly against Phryne’s and Phryne sucked on it a little, arching her back and leaning up towards Mac. 

She slipped her hand over Phryne’s legs and in between her wet labia. Phryne let out an adorable little gasp. She moved in slow, gentle strokes around the sides of her clitoris, watching Phryne’s chest as her breathing quickened. When Mac couldn’t wait any longer, she positioned herself to start licking that gorgeous cunt. Phryne was very neatly groomed, she noted, unsurprised.

“Ooh!” Phryne yelped. How could she manage to be so adorable while still being so sophisticated and sexy? Mac wanted to make her yelp again, and found it wasn’t hard. She wrapped one arm around the small of Phryne’s back, which was starting to get a little sweaty. 

After a little while, she pulled back to give her tounge a break.

“Is it alright if I penetrate you with my fingers?” she asked.

Phryne made an incoherent noise and nodded frantically. Mac slid one finger, then two inside Phryne’s vagina. It seemed Phryne was ready to come at any minute, so Mac returned to licking around her clit while sliding her fingers in and out. She briefly wondered whether Phryne would like to take her whole fist, but decided to save that for another time. Please let there be another time.

Phryne made another incoherent noise, nearly a shriek as she arched her back more. Mac wanted to see Phryne’s face as she orgasmed, but her services were clearly needed down below. 

The look on Phryne’s face right after she came was gratifying enough.

Phryne did indeed drift off. Mac was in a pleasant fog but not sleepy. She leaned over to the bed stand and lit a cigarette.

So. This was what it was like to fuck Phryne Fisher. And the night before, when Mac crept into her bed, Phryne had only recently begun looking at Mac in a sexual way. Hours before. She was probably fantasizing about Mac while they shared a bed! Perhaps. 

Phryne didn’t have much of her lipstick left on. It was probably all over Mac’s face and body, in miniscule amounts she couldn’t see. Phryne’s smart bob was tousled. She looked deeply relaxed.

When Phryne woke up, she smiled lazily at Mac. 

“Hello.”

“Was I out for long?”

“Not very, but I did start my second cigarette.” 

“So, what happens now? I mean... after this. Was this a one-time thing?” Phryne asked.

“God, I hope not.” Maybe that was too honest, but it left Mac’s mouth before she could think.

“Good, I'd like to do this again, but, will it be the elephant in the room? And, um, how will we...” 

Mac exhaled, relieved. She reached over and smoothed Phryne’s messy hair. “My dear, I think we'll both know when the mood strikes us.”


	7. A Golden Opportunity

Chapter 7 - A Golden Opportunity

Mac was just tying her oxfords when she heard the Hispano-Suiza’s horn. Phryne waved as Mac headed out the door.

“Where are we going, exactly?” said Mac, getting in.

“You agreed to come with me but you don’t know where we’re off to?” Phryne laughed.

“Well, you said it was an errand I wouldn’t be interested in but that you’d like me along for the company. Although, that in itself is curious, as I’m interested in most things,” said Mac lightly.

“Ladies’ fashion.”

“Well, now, I take an interest of a sort in ladies’ fashion, just as more of an… appreciator.”

“As long as you appreciate the lady in the fashion?”

“Precisely.” Mac smiled. She had been thinking for a little while that she’d like to get Phryne in the bedroom again, but she was finding it surprisingly difficult to broach the subject. A little banter on this subject was a good start. Maybe she could invite Phryne back to her place that night.

“Speaking of --” Mac started to say, but Phryne started to speak at the same time.

“We’re headed to the shop of a little old lady in Bendigo who makes gold thread. I wanted gold embroidery done on this little frock I’m having made to wear to one of Aunt Prudence’s charity events, and my dressmaker’s usual supplier is unavailable, so the way to get it done in time is to pick it up myself. I thought it would make a fun little adventure.”

“I didn’t know there was any gold left in Bendigo, I thought they mined it all!”

“Nor did I, but it seems there’s still enough left to put on thread,” said Phryne.

“How do they make thread out of gold, anyway? It sounds sort of alchemical.”

“I believe they wrap very thin pieces around silk thread. So really, more medical -- don’t they make sutures out of silk?”

“Sometimes, but more often it’s silkworm g-” Mac stopped herself. Explaining silkworm gut sutures was not going to get the conversation any closer to sex, and might kill the mood entirely.

“-- it’s a related product,” she finished weakly. “You, um, you look really nice today, Phryne.”

“Why thanks! I did just get my hair trimmed. You like it?” Phryne turned her head side to side, to the extent she could while driving.

“Yes,” said Mac. She felt very awkward. Nothing was wrong with the conversation itself, but she felt too self-conscious to flirt. What if she came on too strong? What if she was rushing her? She could just wait and let Phryne take the lead, but it had been over a month since the party when the road was blocked in the storm, and she hadn’t said anything.

The conversation turned to other things, but Mac was preoccupied. Maybe it would be easier just to go back to seeing Phryne as a friend, not a sexy friend with an occasionally more playful relationship. 

She glanced at her friend, and took in the pale freckles over paler skin, the angles where her jaw met her neck and where her neck met her collarbones, and remembered what she looked like on her back, with her graceful arms above her head when she gripped the headboard. Right.

Mac was starting to feel herself being distracted by the rumbling of the car, and the gentle vibrations of the seat below her. The Hispano-Suiza was the best money could buy, but it was still a thousand-plus kilo machine racing down the road. That rumbling didn’t normally feel in any way sexual to her, but when she was already fantasizing about Phryne, they were quite enjoyable. Who knew how much time had passed. She made a number of false starts, trying to think of a graceful way to make a proposition.

...

“So, er, have you been on any fun dates lately?” Mac ventured. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to ask, but starting from there felt a bit less forward.

“Oh, nothing worth writing home about. Or kissing and telling about,” Phryne said with a smile.

“Heh, me neither.”

“Although I did try out a lovely little French place with Jack… but it was technically on business. We needed to overhear a suspect who was having supper there.”

“Aha, so you got a little time to whisper sweet nothings, while keeping your voices low enough to hear the next table?”

“Well… neutral nothings, that day, if I’m being honest. Although I did tease him a bit about his choice of necktie. Nothing scandalous.”

“Well, if you need more scandal in your life...” Mac began.

“Hm?” said Phryne.

I’d be glad to help you out with that. Mac finished in her head. Come on, now say it out loud, she admonished herself. It’s not pushy, it could even be a joke if she wanted it to be. No, but she didn’t want to be the person who passed off an overture as a joke if it didn’t go according to plan. Phryne wouldn’t have the opportunity to give her a clear no, and it would put her in an awkward position. I could help you out with that, if you like. She opened her mouth to say it. I could help you out with that, you know, just say the word.

“I could, I would imagine you know where to find it.” Mac let out her breath in a short huff. She hadn’t realized she had been holding it. Maybe what she managed to say was a little flirtatious, in its own way? No, it was all about tone, and she hadn’t been suggestive enough, she had sort of gone for breezy. She wasn’t sure if it worked.

“Speaking of French places, there’s something that passes for a brasserie that’s more or less on our way, and we’re making decent time. Shall we stop for tea?”

“Sounds great.”

…

After several more false starts and some lovely, lemony madeleines, Mac took a deep breath.

“Phryne, I don’t want to rush you,” she began, determined this time to say what she meant. A clock in the corner of the room struck 4:30, and Phryne started up. 

“I lost track of time, we should get on the road! I have a 5 pm appointment with the woman who makes the thread.”

“An appointment?”

“Yes, she doesn’t have a storefront, just special orders.”

Mac realized she was in a bit of a bind. Having been in a constant state of being about to proposition Phryne for the better part of an hour had gotten her more than psychologically worked up. If she had to get back in the rumbling car moving at Phryne-speed while she was this aroused, she’d explode, or else have an extremely obvious orgasm. It wasn’t like she could make her excuses and catch up with Phryne later, they were in the middle of nowhere 30 minutes from Bendigo. 

“I’m just going to pop to the loo,” Mac said, getting up a little too quickly. But when she turned the corner to the loo, there was only one, and it was occupied. Next to it there was a small, unattended cloakroom where they had hung their coats on the way in. She looked around and slipped in there. 

Mac had never done anything like this before, and she certainly couldn’t afford to get caught. A woman, dressed as she was in a thrown-together three-piece suit, behaving this indecently in the cloakroom of a respectable little cafe? She’d need Phryne’s skill at handling the police. She looked around for something to obscure her further, just in case anyone walked past the doorless entrance. Perfect, it was Phryne’s coat! Mac stood behind Phryne’s coat on its hook, the coat covering her with her back to the wall, and inhaled Phryne’s scent.

She undid her trousers’ top button but left them zipped, sliding her hand behind her fly, and made quick work of the situation. She pictured the way Phryne’s hips had rocked when she ate her out. She thought about the way she had tasted. She held her breath when she came so as not to scream. Just in time, the bathroom door opened. She waited a few beats to make sure the coast was clear, buttoning herself up again, then darted in to wash her hands.

Back on the road, she lost her nerve. She was paralyzed by the same things that had been holding her back all day. Phryne hadn’t been with a woman until Mac, was she pushing Phryne if she made the first move? How could she let her know she was in the mood without putting pressure on the whole situation?


	8. The Deal

Mac awoke from a spectacular dream about Phryne, but she couldn’t remember the details. What a cruel trick of her brain. She had fallen asleep the night before after a wank session thinking about Phryne. Apparently it wasn’t enough.

Mac didn’t ordinarily spend that much time aware of the erectile properties of her own clitoral tissue. When she was turned on, she was turned on, and she felt all the sensations at once -- the increased blood to the area, the warmth, the wetness. This morning, however, she could distinctly feel that she was going to have to do something to appease that hard little nub before she got on with her day.

She tried to think about her off-again, on-again sweetheart Olive while she pleasured herself. Ol had other affairs, which Mac knew about, so it was no betrayal to be thinking about Phryne, but she just wanted to get Phryne out of her head. She pictured Ol’s scrumptious curves, something Phryne was admittedly lacking in, and tried to remember how her skin tasted when they were both sweaty from lovemaking. It was no use, she was picturing Phryne’s head thrown back in ecstasy, so similar and yet so different to when she threw her head back in a laugh. Mac’s body convulsed under the covers as she came. She got up to wash her hands, and resolved to call on Phryne that evening.

\--

“I’m so glad you came,” Phryne said as she filled the glasses in her parlor, “I have encountered an exciting new rum running ring, shipping alcohol to America, and while I have to say I don’t disapprove of them necessarily, I think I can make a few contacts there that will help me keep my finger on the pulse of some of the more dangerous cartels. I may have more rogue autopsies for you soon.”

Great, more investigator stuff. Normally Mac would be interested, but not tonight. Please, not tonight. She had already had a stiff drink right before coming over, to try and bolster her courage. It would be easiest to make her move if she did it before she had time to metabolize this second drink.

“Interesting! Is this for a particular case you’re working on?” she said, trying to muster genuineness.

“Oh no, just some field research,” said Phryne lightly.

“So, it’s not urgent, then?” 

At Phryne’s quizzical look, Mac continued, “I was actually hoping that we wouldn’t be talking shop tonight.”

“Sure thing, what did you want to talk about?” Her smile was too easy and natural; it didn’t look calculated or coy enough to be flirtatious, coming from Phryne. Damn it, the same fears she had a few weeks before on the trip to Bendigo were coming back. Did Phryne really not know that Mac was thinking about it? Did she want it to be a one-time thing after all? Mac took a serious sip of her drink before continuing. She tried to waggle her eyebrows, just a little. Too much and she’d look silly.

“I was actually hoping that we… er, that we could take these drinks upstairs, to speak in private?”

They were alone in the parlor. Phryne paused for a moment, and touched Mac’s hand. “Of course. Is everything alright?”

“Yes! I mean, no, I mean, yes it is, it’s just that I…” Mac spluttered. This wasn’t going how she planned at all, maybe she should just…

“OH!” Phryne had finally gotten it, and she was flushing deep red. Thank god, there was a bright light in her eyes, and there was that coy smile.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” she asked Mac.

Mac waved her hand in the air, somewhat helplessly.

Once they were upstairs, they wasted no time. Phryne kissed Mac while she undid her cravat and her waistcoat. Mac ran her fingers over Phryne’s hard nipples while she waited her turn to undress her. Phryne did pause the frenzy, however, to take Mac’s hair down from its pins.

“I needed this,” Mac managed to confess while Phryne was going down on her. Every inch of her body was aroused, but she wasn’t absolutely breathless yet. Phryne deftly placed her thumb where her tongue had been without missing a beat, and raised her head a bit.

“In a bit of a dry spell? I would have imagined you could get any woman you like, provided she’s so inclined,” she murmured. Mac would have blushed if she weren’t already as flush as possible.

“No, it’s not that. I… I needed you.” 

“Like I asked earlier, why didn’t you say so?”

Mac grabbed at the sheets a little to ground herself.

“To be honest, I was trying… at first I was trying to be cool? Suave, you know. So I tried to hint at it, but you didn’t get the hint, and then I thought you didn’t want to, or I thought I’d be rushing or pushing you because maybe you wanted to but didn’t want to yet?” Phryne paused the rhythm she had been using on Mac’s cunt.

“No don’t stop!”

“Shall we resume this after you come, then?” Phryne chuckled.

Mac tried to say yes but sort of grunted instead. Phryne dove back in facefirst. Her tongue was so perfectly quick and warm. They didn’t have to wait long until they could continue their conversation.

“What was I saying?” said Mac, a little deliriously, once she had recovered her breath.

“That you were trying to be suave. Which, frankly, is adorable, since I’ve never seen you not be suave.”

Mac laughed.

“I wanted it too, but I confess I didn’t pick up on your hinting. I wanted to flirt with you, but then I didn’t know how not to make a fool of myself. I wanted to follow your lead, but didn’t know what that would look like. I think we may be bad at this!” said Phryne. 

“My friend, I think you’re right.”

"Let's make a deal," said Phryne. "From now on, we'll say what we want instead of trying to be coy or suave -- no more detective work about whether the mood has struck us both."


End file.
